Your Call
by Pinned back Wings
Summary: Clara Martha Frank is just your normal, clumsy, 12-year old girl. She grew up with doubts that good things happen to good people. She still stayed optimistic, but can a journey to another world change her mind? For better...or for worse? PeterXOC
1. Sad Beginnings

**Your Call  
**_By Masque de Naïf Beaute_

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wanna know something sad? I dreamt this! It's been years since I've seen a Narnia movie (including Prince Caspian…) and last night I had this dream! Crazy right? Well I just had to share it because I thought it could have potential.

**Chapter one**: Sad beginnings

* * *

It was a typical day for someone that lived in Finchley, England. The sun peeked out of the ominous clouds that lingered above the buildings. The children played in the street while the fathers mowed the lawn or played catch along with the children. The mothers, awaiting the lunch hour, began to do house chores. Vacuuming, dusting, and making beds.

1934 was just the beginning of bad beginnings. Jews were treated like slaves or commoners. All in all, they weren't being treated like equals. Of course, being in England you didn't have to worry about such things. This was happening in Germany and many Jews came over to the English border. In the very end, England was okay where it stood.

But not everything can be well.

The Pevensies lived in a rural neighborhood. Everyone was happy. The only house that was empty was the one that stood next to their own.

It took no time to have that house filled with happiness and cheer. July 1934 the Franks moved next door. They were a lovely family.

They had only one child, her name was Clara Martha Frank. Joanna was the mother, she was Polish and didn't speak a word of English, while the father, Henry, was a true English gentleman. He taught Clara English as well as his wife. Though it was harder to teach a twenty-nine year old English after twenty-seven years of Polish.

Clara was often described as a humble, shy girl. She was gullible to a certain point, and she wanted to believe that everyone had some good in them. She saw the best in people even if it was harder for others to see. She was clumsy and adorable.

* * *

"Susan!" A girl's voice called out as the brunet sat under a near-by tree, reading none other than a book. Susan looked up and saw Clara, one of her friends, running over, a smile carved into her face.

"Hello Clara." Susan spoke perfect English for a six-year old and wasted no time learning more. A smile appeared on Susan's face.

"Susan, how has your day been going?"

"Fine, Peter is in the house if you want to say hi to him." Susan spoke with a slight clutch. She wasn't one for sharing friends with her brother since everyone loved him. Clara, tilted her head sideways, and spoke.

"I came to ask you to come to the park with me. We could play in the sandbox!"

"Aren't you too old for a sandbox?" Susan asked with a mature tone. She acted like a ten-year old even though she was four years short.

Clara pouted at her friend's come back.

"I see. You have fun then." Clara's back turned and she walked off to her house. She really didn't have any other friends besides Peter and Susan. Everyone teased her and pulled her light brown hair. They even called her names! She tried to get along with them, but no words could overcome their stubbornness.

"Hey Susie." Another voice said as she was snuggled back into her book. Sighing, and without looking up, she knew who it was.

"Peter." There was a moment of silence.

"Where's Clara? I just saw her a moment ago, and now she's gone." Susan put down her book she clearly was enjoying.

"She went back home. She came over here to ask _me_ to play with her." Peter looked slightly hurt and kicked at an invisible rock.

"Why didn't she ask me?"

"She probably figured your too old to play in the sandbox." Susan lifted up her book again, only to have a hand shift it down.

"You made her sad didn't you?" Peter asked, disappointed. His sandy blond hair was shaggy and needed a cut.

"So? She needs to grow up a little."  
"Susan! You're only six, and so is Clara! You need to act a little more your age." Peter said, again disappointed in his sister's attitude.

"Go make her feel better then. You're her best friend after all." Susan ultimately just wanted to read by herself and enjoy the company of a good book, not people.

"Fine." His face was slightly reddened as he stalked off towards the Frank's residence. Susan, smiling slightly, lifted the book right back up and stuffed her nose into it. Mystery books were always the best, even if she didn't know what some of the words meant.

* * *

Peter, reaching the Frank's house, knocked on the oak door and waited patiently, rocking back and forth on his heels. Finally the door opened revealing a slightly tearful Clara. Her face lit up when she saw Peter.

"Hi Peter! What brings you…" she paused for a moment thinking of the word her father used for this sentence, "here?" Peter chuckled silently at her clueless-ness.

"Want to go to the park?" Clara smiled widely.

"Let me tell my mum."

"And I'll go tell mine."

* * *

A moment later the two children met outside.

"My mum said I'd have to be back by six, which gives us about forty minutes." Peter said as he walked besides Clara. Her hair was up in a slightly messy bun with two strands framing her face.

"My mum said six also. She said she didn't want bad people stealing me!" Peter nodded his head and smiled. Grabbing her hand, he spoke again: "Come on! We've got to hurry!"

And with that they raced off while the sun still lingering in the sky creating hues of orange and yellow.

"Hey Peter, how about a castle?" Clara asked as she sat on her bum. Her pretty, yellow dress getting dirty.

"Clara!" Peter went over and brought her up by her hands, "you can't get your pretty dress all dirty, then your mum will ground you. Remember last time?" Clara pondered for a moment and broke out in a smile.

"I remember."

"And yes, let's build a castle."

A few minutes passed by as some bigger boys walked by and saw the two younger children playing in the sand box. One boy, with flaming red hair, walked over and kicked the sand castle, which the two had been building, quickly destroying it. Clara looked up at the bigger boy.

"Why'd you do that?" Her voice was laced with sadness as she gathered the sand up and stared at it.

"Are you gonna cry? You're such a cry baby!" The other two boys came over and they all pointed and laughed at her. Clara's eyes watered up with salty tears as they ran down her face. Peter, looked at Clara and then at the older boys.

"What's your problem?" Peter asked standing up from the sandbox. The sand grains falling off his corduroys.

"What's your problem?" The older boy asked as he pushed Peter backwards in the sandbox, "we're just having a little fun with your crybaby of a friend here." The other two boys made crying noises and kicked sand in Clara's direction. Clara looked up with big, tearful eyes.

"Why are you being so mean?" The older boy stood back from Peter and looked directly at Clara.

"Because, you cry so easily." The other boys laughed loudly. Clara looked at the boy, her eyes narrowed.

"Why are you being mean to Peter?" The older boy looked at Clara, again.

"Peter? That boy?" He pointed to Peter who was laying in the sand, rubbing the back of his head, "he's just trying to be your friend. He doesn't like you. Nobody does you stupid _Pollock." _Clara looked down at her shoes. Pollock is a racial slur towards the Polish community and many people never teach their children that, but apparently their parents had.

"Pollock, Pollock, Pollock, Pollock!" The older boys chanted as they teased her and threw sand at her. Clara cried and cried, until finally Peter got up and knocked one of the older boys over.

"Leave my friend alone!" Peter's face was beet red and climbed on top of the older boy and punched his face. Clara looked up slightly and gasped at Peter.

"Peter!" she sobbed out, but before she could do anything the two older boys pushed Peter off and grabbed the bloody nosed boy.

"You stupid kid I'll show you!" Before he could get back up, the other two pushed him back.

"Just leave them alone James. That's enough." The older boy glared at Peter and walked away with his friends. Clara got up and grabbed Peter's shirt; she clung to it.

"T-they called me a b-bad name." Clara sobbed into Peter's white shirt. Peter looked down at the smaller girl and petted her hair.

"It's okay, everything will be okay Clara." Clara hugged her friend closely, but this was only the start to a sad beginning. If only they knew.


	2. Pożegnanie matki i ojca

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**Your Call  
**_By Masque de Naïf Beaute_

AUTHOR'S NOTE:Thank you all for reviewing and alerting! Although it's not a whole lot, it still gives me the incentive to write!

____

**Chapter two**: _Pożegnanie matki i ojca_

* * *

It had been a years since the coincidenceat the park with the older boys. Clara was now eleven, still defenseless as always though. She was of small stature reminding many people of a porcelain doll. Clara's hair was now, stunningly, long. Over the years it had grown down to her lower-back. The only reason for this is because Clara's mother always wanted a daughter with long hair so she could braid it, and so she could remind herself that she had made that beautiful creature.

Clara's once grey eyes were now a dark green like the grass in the early morning light.  
Peter and Susan also had grown up, along with Edmund. Lucy, the little baby that Clara hardly saw, was now seven years old. Her hair was a golden brown and she had a staggering beauty to her. She had a crooked smile that lit up a room.  
The year was 1939 and the date? September third.

* * *

Clara sat alone, cuddling with the pillow, on the couch. The radio whispered in the background as she lazily looked up at the ceiling. Her parents went to Poland to collect her grandparents from their currant residence. The war within the countries of Germany and Poland was flaming hot. Hitler, the currant leader of Germany, was talking...talking about an invasion on Poland. Clara's grandparents were scared for their lives, but they lived in the Eastern part of Poland and only people with money were getting put earlier.  
Since her father was a doctor he paid for his ticket and her mothers, who was scared for her life as they entered, but they made it safely and were suppose to be traveling back today.

Suddenly the radio blazed with a foreign noise.

_"Breaking news! Germany has launched it's attack on Poland! Civilians are dying along with army force..._" Clara shook to her very core.

"W...what?" She stuttered out loud to herself. She started at the radio awaiting further noise, "where? Oh gosh, what about mum?...dad?" She felt the tears weld up in her eyes.

_"Polish armies are reporting that the attacks have happened in the eastern part of Poland..."_Clara's eyes widened even more. That's where her parents were... her grandparents too. She launched herself off the sofa with small effort and ran towards the front door, swinging it open with all her might, she stared running towards the Pevensie's house.  
-

She started banging on the door, tears streaming down her face, as Mrs. Pevensie opened the door. Helen looked at the girl that was infront of her, her hands laid in her apron.  
"I'm sorry Clara..." Clara gave Mrs. Pevensie time for apologizes, she cried right into her dress. The tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes blazed a light pink.

"They might still be alive Clara," Mrs. Pevensie's voice was laced with pity, "but until the time you find out, you need to come stay with us. Now, come in." Mrs. Pevensie ushered Clara in, hugging her tight around her shoulders as she entered the living space. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and even Lucy sat around in a circle. The radio laid on the floor as they listened to the news. Clara's tears refreshed themselves as she squinted her eyes, tears ran down her cheeks.  
Mrs. Pevensie looked at her children and smiled sadly.

"Clara will be staying with us until we now for sure. I'll go ring the child survices." As Mrs. Pevensie walked out of the room, the other children looked at Clara with pity, even sympathy. Clara wiped her eyes with the edge of her cardigan sweater that her mother bought her for her birthday.

"Su-susan, pe-peter..." She cried out, hiccuping. She looked up from her sweater and walked over, crying still, "wh-what if they're d-dead?" Hiccuping, Clara asked the dreaded question. Peter, being overly-optimistic, spoke up before Susan gave her "thoughtful" answer.

"My mum will let you live here of course! You'd be like them... "foster-kids"." Clara looked up at Peter with big eyes full of hope.

"Hopefully..." Susan slung an arm around her friend's shoulder and Clara took the chance to stat crying into her shoulder.  
That night was unrestful for Clara, she tossed and turned thinking about her families dead bodies... She cried herself to sleep finally.  
She had nightmares.

Mostly of thousands of German soliders running up a hill, where on top stood her mother and father. The German soliders readied their guns and shot, each bullet hit its intended mark. As the bodies spill blood, they move on not caring for the dead. Soon they are upon her grandparents. They hold each other as the soliders, again, ready their guns and shoot. Just like the last time, each bullet hit its intended mark and agian, they marched on killing more and more.  
-

The next week was torture for Clara, she couldn't sleep, she blamed herself, and she couldn't eat the meat Mrs. Pevensie cooked, it reminded herself of the dreams.  
Finally an old car pulled up in front of her house. Clara thought they found her parents and ran outside. She crossed the street to meet the gentlemen stepping out of the car.

"My parents?" The gentleman with a green hat turned towards Clara and suddenly looked down, probably surprised by her height.

"Clara Frank?" Clara shook her head un-willing to be patient.

"Have you found my parents? Are they okay? What about my grandparents?" The man looked down at her with sad eyes, and suddenly he smiled.

"I have a little girl at home about your age, I would want someone to give it to her nicely..." Clara looked at him with questionable eyes, "what?"

He took a deep breath and looked at Clara with sad eyes, again. "Clara Frank, I'm sorry to say..." Her eyes were already filled with tears, "you're parents, and grandparents are dead." Clara looked at the man as she cried the tears that threatened before the conversation started.

"Do you have anyone to stay with?" The man asked, his face dropped slightly.

"I'm staying with my neighbor..." Clara started as the man cut her off, "relative wise?" Clara shook her head.

"I'm sorry..." she wiped the tears away, "I don't have any cousins or uncles... or auntes. It was just my grandparents." More tears spilt from her eyes.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. Have your neighbor call the child services." He tipped his hat and slide back in the car. As the car drove off, Clara fell to her knees.

"No...no...no!" She screamed the last part as she gathered her head in her hands and cried, long and hard.

* * *

Mrs. Pevensie put a blanket around her shoulders as she laid a hot cup of chocolate milk in front of her. Her eyes softened at the little girl infront of herself.

"I'm sorry honey." She sat next to Clara and hugged her affectionaly. Clara cried again, she felt numb.

* * *

"Clara?" A voice rang out in her head. Of course, she wasn't sleeping; why would she be since it was only five in the afternoon. Clara removed the quilt from her head and looked up at the doorway. Peter stood at the doorframe with his arms crossed looking sleepy, "if it helps any you and me could stay up late and talk?" he questioned himself. Clara tried to be happy, tried to smile, but that smile seemed to crack.

"That sounds wonderful." Peter walked inside his mother's room and sat besides his friend. He put his arm around her shoulder as he pushed her head into his chest.

"If you just need to cry, just let it out please." Clara looked up at Peter with a slightly smile as she tried to be happy, again.

"I've been crying for the past week, I was readying myself for the news... but it still hurts." She clutched his shirt slightly as she felt him petting her hair, "I'm sorry."

"Please don't say that... too many people have said that for the past week already... just please... lets just talk about the good times, okay?" Peter looked down again at the girl he held close and as he petted her hair affectionatly he began to talk about when they were smaller.

* * *

At ten o'clock, Clara had fallen asleep in Peter's arms. It was silly to say, but she felt safter within his arms. She felt her heart flutter at the mere sound of his voice. She nuzzeled into his chest tiredly, and soon Peter also fell asleep. As they both fell back, Clara opened her eye one last time to take in Peter.

She never felt safer.


	3. Sirens

Your Call  
_By Masque de Naïf Beaute _

**Chapter three:** Sirens

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the alerts, favorites, and reviews! I appreciate them all since this is my first Narnia fanfic.

* * *

Clara turned on her side, her sleeping form tiredly turned again like she was having a nightmare.

It had been a year since her parents died, it had been a year since Mrs. Pevensie took her in with open arms and an open heart, it also had been a year since Clara had been held by Peter. Mr. Pevensie was enrolled into the army shortly after the air-raid on Poland, England was suddenly swept into battle also.

She felt for the Pevensies' after all her parents did die that same year. She still never got over it, her parent's bodies (along with her grandparent's,) drifted in and out of her mind. If only she had stopped them, if only she had been there… would anything be different?

The cool night breeze drifted in the room as Lucy suddenly turned on her side, surprising Clara. She was wide awake at the moment as she slept next to Lucy. Clara pulled Lucy towards her, petting her hair as she looked like she was going to cry in her sleep. A nightmare perhaps? Maybe she was having nightmares like she had when her parents died… their bodies laying there in cold blood, a horrid look plastered on their faces…

The image was dreadful and she hoped Lucy wasn't having those images flash threw her innocent head.

Lucy suddenly stopped tearing up as her face turned into one expression of relaxed.

Clara followed suit, her eyes closing slightly. They drooped downwards as she finally fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

A blast of noise came from outside as Clara's eyes snapped open. She knew that sound; _air raid sirens_. Clara shook Lucy awake. Her eyes frantic as she plucked a teddy bear that laid next to Lucy into her arms.

"Lucy, we've got to go!" Her voice was frantic as well as she grabbed Lucy by her forearm and plucked a book off the shelf that laid next to her. She pulled Lucy out into the hall as Susan ran out of her room, looking as frantic as Clara was.

"The bomb shelter! Hurry!" Susan yelled across the hall as bombs started to drop causing the house to shake with tremors. Clara, pulling Lucy along, ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Seeing Mrs. Pevensie, Peter, and Edmund made her calm down a bit. They all ran out the back doors when suddenly Edmund stopped in his tracks, looking back at the house with a look of forgetfulness on his face.

"Wait! Dad!" He pulled away from Peter's grip and ran inside.

When Clara pulled Lucy into the bomb shelter she went to yell after Edmund (after she noticed he was running into the house), but Mrs. Pevensie beat her to it.

"Edmund!" She screamed as the sirens grew louder and the bombs exploding closer to the house. She looked at Peter frantically and with a look of hesitation, Peter took after Edmund.

Both Susan and Clara pulled Mrs. Pevensie inside the shelter while they waited for Peter and Edmund to get back. Suddenly, a bomb exploded and a plane crashed into one of the neighboring houses. Mrs. Pevensie went to the door, ready to run back into the house for the two boys. Then, suddenly, Peter was pulling Edmund out of the house and straight for the shelter. Mrs. Pevensie moved out of the way for the boys.

Peter gripped Edmund's arm and threw him inside the shelter. Edmund landed on the ground and picked up the picture framed that was smashed. Peter's face went beet read.

"Why do you always have to be so selfish! You only think about yourself. Why can't you ever do as you're told!" Peter screamed at Edmund, reaching over the bombs exploding in the background. After his 'rant', Peter slammed the shelter door closed only to yell more at Edmund.

"What would've happened if our house got bombed with you inside! What if!" Mrs. Pevensie cut him off with a hurt look.

"Let's not think of those possibilities right now Peter. At least Edmund is alive and well, right girls?" Mrs. Pevensie's eyes filled with tears as she looked back at the three trembling girls. Shock and hurt written on each of their faces. No one spoke.

Peter looked angrily at Edmund as he went over to one of the cots set up in the back. Clara brought Lucy close to her as she pet her hair. Lucy looked like she was ready to cry, her eyes filled with the salty liquid.

"It's okay Lucy, we're all here. Alive and safe." Lucy quietly sobbed into Clara's shirt as Susan patted her back affectionately.

"Dad's not here," She sobbed out. The air became tense, "what if he's not well!" she sobbed out again. Clara only smiled sadly.

"We can only send a prayer, right?" She nodded at Susan and lifted Lucy's head up, "God will watch over your dad if you send a prayer okay?" Lucy nodded her head frantically as she wiped the tears away from her face using her flannel pajama sleeves.

"Okay." The rest of the night Lucy prayed until she fell asleep, her head in Clara's lap. Clara, again, petted Lucy's hair dotingly. Peter, on the cot next to their own, turned on his side so he was facing Clara.

"Thank you." Startled, Clara looked up into Peter's crystal eyes, "for what?" her voice was quiet, seeing as the rest of the family was fast asleep.

"Being the older sibling I wasn't for the time being." Peter's gaze turned down to Lucy's sleeping form. Clara smiled tiredly and gazed over at him, capturing his eyes.

"You'll always be the older sibling that Lucy looks up too. No matter what happens." Peter smiled sadly.

"Thank you." Clara nodded her head and smiled genuinely, "your welcome Peter." She knew how he felt, and sadly, all she could say were those fifteen words.

* * *

The next day, Mrs. Pevensie woke them up early in the morning. Saying something about gathering their belongings. Clara was numb inside as she held Lucy's hand, walking up to the house. Some of the houses around them no loner stood. They climbed the stairs.

Lucy was packing her belongings in a small duffle bag. Her clothes, some books, and of course some of her stuffed animals.

Clara stuffed her things into a slightly larger bag. Her clothes, her books, her sketch book and color pencils. Anything she could find that belonged to her. Upon opening a cardboard box, she found a necklace her mother gave her when she was a toddler, when they still lived in Poland. It was a heart shaped pendent that had a picture of her parents in it. She clutched it to her heart closely and set it gently inside her bag.

"You ready?" Lucy asked, her voice as soft as possible. It was barely audible to Clara. Slowly turning, Clara looked at Lucy. She was dressed in a winter coat, a nice dress with stockings and her loafers. Clara pushed back the tears and swallowed hard.

"Just let me get dressed and I'll be downstairs okay?" She tilted her head slightly as Lucy nodded her head slightly. Walking out of the room, Lucy strapped her bag over her left shoulder and bounded down the steps. Clara slid off her night-gown and dug in her bag, finding a fitting dress.

She unzipped the back and slid it on with ease. Sliding on white stockings, she zipped up the dress. She unlaced her heeled shoes and placed them on her feet.

After dressing, she walked over to the mirror that hung on Lucy's wall. She grabbed a hair band and tied her hair into a loosely made ponytail.

Tucking stray strands behind her ear, she grabbed her bag and went down the steps, her shoes tapping lightly on the hard-wood flooring. She went inside the hallway closet and got her loose jacket and slid it on. Everyone stood in the same hallway as Mrs. Pevensie wiped the tears away from her eyes.

"Dolores told me about the nice people taking children in, in the country. She sent Kimberly to one only a few weeks ago, and I decided to call one… just in case something like this happened… So your all going to stay there until the war is over." Edmund went to open his mouth, but Mrs. Pevensie lifted up her hand and quietly spoke again, "no buts."

* * *

Once they arrived at the train station Clara saw hundreds of children, hugging, saying goodbye to their parents as the boarded the trains.

"_Attention, would all parents ensure that their children have the appropriate identification papers. Thank you_." There was a sound of light buzzing and a silent 'click'. Mrs. Pevensie looked, again, like she was going to cry.

"You warm enough? Now honey, you have to keep this on you," she fixed the identification slip that hung on Lucy's coat, "Be sure to keep this on." Mrs. Pevensie kissed the top of Lucy's head lightly and smiled faintly.

" If Dad were here, the war would be over, and we wouldn't have to go." Edmund snapped as he looked sadly down at his shoes. Clara found interest in her shoes as well as Edmund said those words. If her parents were here, she wouldn't be troubling anyone.

"If dad wasn't fighting and the war was over we wouldn't have to go." Peter snapped at Edmund, making Edmund look up at Peter, glaring slightly. Mrs. Pevensie stepped in, thank goodness.

"You'll listen to your brother won't you, Edmund?" She fixed his identification slip as well and closed up his jacket, looking lovingly at him. Edmund muttered a quiet 'yes' as Mrs. Pevensie turned to Peter next.

"Look after the others Peter," Peter looked at his mother with a sad smile.

"I will mum." Mr. Pevensie nodded at him and went over to Susan who stood next to Clara.

"You be a big girl Susan, look after your sister will you?" Susan nodded her head lightly and looked as if she was going to cry also. Mrs. Pevensie gave her a giant hug as she wiped the stray tears away. Soon it was Clara's turn to get the dotting affection.

"You look after yourself Clara. Don't let what others say hurt you, okay?" She sniffled lightly as her tears weld up in her eyes yet again. Clara nodded, sniffling also.

"Of course Mrs. Pevensie. I'll look after everyone for you as well." Mrs. Pevensie broke down and hugged Clara close.

"You've always been a good girl Clara." She sniffled as she let Clara go. She went back and hugged the others as well.

"There… now off you go." She said as she waved her hand in the 'away' manor. She dapped her face with her handkerchief. Peter grabbed Lucy's hand and looked at her sadly.

"Come on, we've got to stay together now. Everything's going to be okay." Clara looked on affectionately. Peter was going to be a good father one day. Her face heated up at his comment as Edmund quirked his eyebrow at her and elbowed her.

"Something wrong Clara?" Peter now looked back at her as she whipped her head so she was looking to her right rather than straight ahead.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking Edmund." Edmund shrugged.

"Just wondering your face turned a bright red when you looked ahead. Was it someone you saw?" Clara wanted to roll her eyes at Edmund, he was just pushing the subject. Suddenly Peter grabbed Clara's hand and helped her up into the train cart. He went to help Edmund up, but Ed snapped at him.

"I know how to get onto a train." He helped himself up and Peter helped Susan up, then himself lastly.

They opened a window each and stuck out their heads and hands.

"Bye mom, we'll miss you!" Peter said over all the crying as the train blew it's whistle.

"Good-bye my darlings!" She shouted back as the train started moving. She ran a little bit with the train until she came to the end of the cement walk way. She waved after them as tears streamed down her face. Peter and Susan waved still as Edmund gave up along with Lucy. Being short had its disadvantages.

* * *

After they could no longer see the station, they gathered up their belongings and searched for an empty room.

After twenty minutes of walking around, searching each and every cart they finally found one that was empty. Piling inside the room, Peter sat next to Clara whom was sitting next to Lucy. Lucy was, of course, in the middle.

Opposite of them sat Susan and Edmund. Edmund was straight across from Clara.

Lucy, tiredly, put her head on Peter's shoulder and fell asleep not long after that.

Susan pulled out a book from her bag and dug her nose into it.

Clara, Edmund, and Peter were the only ones not doing anything. So they, meaning Edmund and Clara, engaged in small talk.

"How're you doing Clara?" Edmund asked awkwardly. Clara shifted her gaze from the vastly large landscape that stood outside her window to Edmund.

"I'm fine. Why the question?" She asked her attention on him suddenly.

"No reason. It's to bland in here. No small talk or music. Nothing." Clara quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"I could sing if you want," Edmund's eyes widened along with Peter's, "No!" they shouted suddenly making Lucy stir in her sleep. Clara laughed quietly. She knew she was terrible at singing and everyone knew it. Edmund chuckled quietly as Peter smiled; it was the first time he heard Edmund laugh in a long time… well _chuckle _like he was doing.

It had been a couple of hours since the train ride started when suddenly the doors flew opened showing a pair of boys. They glanced around the cabin and smiled.

"May we sit in here?" Their accent was enticing. Clara looked up from her book, she had pulled out when she got bored of the same trees and grass plains that passed by, and saw Peter thinking thoughtfully over it. Susan didn't look up from her book as she replied: "sure, it's not like we crushed in here or anything." The boys nodded slightly as Clara got up from her spot and sat next to Edmund.

"More room for the two of you." Peter rolled his eyes at Clara's kindness to strangers and scooted himself and Lucy over.

"Thank you kindly." They both replied together. They both sat down next to Peter and smiled gently over at Clara and Edmund.

"Are you two a couple?" Clara scrunched her face up and laughed lightly.

"Me and Edmund?" Edmund laughed as well at the older boys accusation.

"I take that as a 'no'," the one sitting next to Peter said, "I believe it is James." The other boy smiled as well.

"Oh how rude of me," Clara said as she nodded over at the two boys, "I'm Clara, this is Edmund," she pushed Edmund lightly, "the one reading is Susan, the oldest boy is Peter, and the little one is Lucy." Clara said, pointing to each and everyone.

"I'm George," said the one farthest away, "and this is my brother James." He pointed over to his brother. Susan looked up from her book and a eyebrow.

"Are you twins?" Clara looked at the two, they were identical except James had a beauty mark on his right side of his mouth and George opposite. James slung an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"How could you tell?" It was sarcasm. Susan rolled her eyes and she shut the book suddenly.

"Cousins can be identical you know." She snapped as she shifted her eyes over to George, the one that spoke.

"I was just joking." George said lightly, chuckling to himself. Susan blew out a heavy sigh as she laid the book next to her.

"So are you two sisters?" James asked first.

"Yeah are you two?" George followed. Susan looked at them with a curious face.

"Who?"

"You and _Clara_." James asked, Clara's name slipping off his tongue easily.

"No, we're not related," Susan snapped. She needed to work on her social skills, "these are my brothers and that's _my_ sister." She pointed to the sleeping Lucy and Clara's cheeks burned. Susan used a tone that seemed like she didn't want Clara there in the first place.

James lifted a brow up and smirked.

"That's lovely." James's attention switched from Susan to Clara.

"So why are you traveling with these people?" Peter's face turned into a intense shade of red.

"I'm… well… I'm kind-of like a 'foster child'." Clara's voice shook lightly, "it's something I wish not to talk about either." She said curtly as she turned her head away from them, her detest for them grew stronger.

"Too bad, because we wanted to learn more about you." Clara bit her tongue from saying something repulsive. Edmund looked at the two boys and narrowed his eyes.

"When a lady says she doesn't want to talk about something you should honor her decision and shut your _traps_." He bit the inside of his cheeks as the two twins looked at each other and shrugged.

"Okay." Clara looked over at Edmund and whispered a quick 'thank you' to him. She rested her head on his shoulder as her eyes closed drowsily. She suddenly fell asleep as the train rolled on throughout the landscape.


	4. Convection of Horsewoman

**Your Call  
**_By Masque de Naïf Beaute  
_**Chapter four**: Convention of Horse-woman

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I just now noticed my story is in a C2! Thanks for adding me, I feel so happy knowing people are enjoying this story. (: This additional chapter is just for my 7 alerts, 3 favorites, 191 hits, and my wonderful 3 reviewers! (Pendragon2601, 4everEdmund's, and Mystic Lover of the fairytale!)

* * *

"Wouldn't it be easier if we just wake her, Peter?" Edmund's voice echoed threw Clara's mind. Her eyebrows knitted together as her eyes slightly fluttered open to see she was higher up then both Susan and Edmund. Which, in fact, she was about an inch taller than Edmund, not seven inches.

"Did you see me try to wake her?" Peter's voice came back. It sounded like his voice was _underneath_ her. Clara moaned lightly and nuzzled her head into the closest thing, "I mean, it's hard enough waking her without mum there, now it's going to be ten times as harder."

"Well, maybe if she went to sleep at proper hours at night she wouldn't be such a hard sleeper." Susan added lightly. Suddenly it felt as if Clara was walking, but her feet were suspended in the air.

"Do you want me to take her bag for you Peter? She must be heavy as it is," Edmund's voice echoed threw her head again; she felt irked at his comment, "not that I mean she's fat or anything like that." He added on after she heard a 'thwack' coming from where Susan's voice was placed before.

"She's not really that heavy actually, but yeah, take her bag," there was a sudden exchange in weight from her right side to left side, "there, much better." Now it felt like they were walking _downwards_.

_This must be some weird motion dream_, Clara thought as she moaned lightly again and arched her back, then sighed giving into sleep.

"Are you sure she's just sleeping?" Lucy asked, her voice was as tiny as ever, "she's groaning and stuff." Her voice was resounding from behind Clara, which was normal. Usually when the five of them walked to school she was usually behind Clara.

"She might be having a bad dream," Edmund said thoughtfully, "she's been having a lot of those lately." She pictured herself tossing and turning all those nights ago, and wondering if Lucy had told Edmund about that.

"Yes she has," Lucy quietly added as they suddenly stopped walking and a loud whistle blew form behind Clara, "she has been tossing and turning an awful lot lately… what do you think she dreams about that is so bad?" Clara could feel Peter's arm muscles tighten against her bum. Wait, _bum_?

She cracked her eyes open again and turned her head to see this:

She was off the ground a good foot, Peter's arm was around her bum, her legs dangled from either side of his body, and her arms hanging loosely around his neck.

He was giving her a _piggyback _ride.

She felt suddenly embarrassed, but didn't move. She felt safe where she was _and_ didn't want to fall.

It was a bright day out, but also chilly. The wind picked up at certain times, but dropped almost as quick as it started.

"Are your arms getting tired yet?" Edmund's voice rang from besides Clara, "I could carry her for a bit." Peter chuckled at the statement as she could almost _feel_ Edmund's frown being placed upon his face.

"What?" he snapped lightly at Peter. Peter did nothing but smile at his little brother.

"You can barely carry a box of books down to the school library Ed, what makes you think you could carry a twelve year old girl?" Clara could feel Edmund open his mouth to reply, but was abruptly cut off by Susan.

"The professor knew we were coming?" her voice was torn between confusion and anger, probably at the fight that was about to start between the two siblings.

"Perhaps we've been incorrectly labeled?" She could hear the rummaging of papers and coats. Then, she felt like she needed to get off Peter's back. She didn't know why, maybe it was the fact he had been shifting between his feet for over five minutes.

Faking a yawn, she lifted up her arms and arched her back once more. She fluttered her eyes open again and rubbed them softly.

"Are we there yet?" Of course she knew they weren't. She heard chuckles from all around her.

"Nope not yet sleepy head." She knew that was Lucy. Clara couldn't help but smile at Lucy's silly comment.

"You're giving me a piggyback ride?" Clara asked lightly, "you can put me down you know." She couldn't see Peter's face, but she was sure it was a smirk or a happy smile.

"Of course sleepy head." He lowered himself to the ground so he was sitting on one knee as Clara hoped off. After first she was kind of woozy, probably from the lack of _solid ground_ beneath her.

"Why did you just wake me up?" She asked as she plucked her bag from Edmund's arms and into her own, "it would've easier on your back." Clara stated as she clutched his right shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

"It doesn't matter to me," He shrugged his shoulders lightly, "you're not that heavy." Clara looked at him with the "I-don't-believe-you" look he had gotten many times from Susan.

"Peter, I'm nearly a hundred and three pounds. Don't lie to me." **(1)** Peter looked at her with the same expression she gave him earlier, "to me you're not that heavy."

"Hey look!" Lucy said as she smiled widely. She pointed down the dirt road as a horse drawn carriage was pulling up. The woman, to Clara, looked like a mix between a minx and a horse. Her jaw was short, but her face still resembled a horse because her eyes were wide, but were hidden behind her circular glasses. She wore a brown hat upon her hair where only strings of her hair came out of her hat.

She also wore a brown coat and scarf. Her skirt was a lighter brown color than the rest of her outfit.

"Mrs. Macready?" Peter ventured as the horse drawn carriage came to a stop in front of them. Clara smiled up at the older woman and in return the older woman smiled, lightly, down at Clara.

"I'm afraid so. Is that it then? Haven't you brought anything else?" Edmund looked down almost ashamed by the comment.

"No ma'am. It's just us."

"Small favors," She said lightly as she whipped the horse slightly making it move a couple more inches, "get in then." Peter threw in his bag along with Edmund's as he climbed in, helping Susan in. Clara waited patiently, hanging off her and Lucy's bag. Edmund sat down on the hay that was limply situated in the corner as Susan sat next to him.

After helping Lucy in, Clara stepped in with the help of Peter. She sat on the edge and dangled her feet off of the back.

"Everyone in?"

"Yes ma'am." Clara replied for the other siblings, then with a swish of Mrs. Macready's whip they were off.

The dirt flew up from the ground and swirled around Clara's feet in a slight dance of happiness. The long grass that stood up from the ground whipped at her feet also, tickling the backs of her calves.

"Having fun?" Peter asked as he sat next to Clara, his feet now dangling off the back as well. Clara looked at Peter, the sun shown directly down on his hair giving is a light sheen or luster look to it. He moved his hand to his hair and brushed it backwards before looking at her again.

"Yes, I've always liked the country side," her face downcast to her lap as the clouds moved across the sky, "it reminds me of my home in Poland." She said as she looked up, a sad look spread across her face.

"Oh…" Peter said lightly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder in a tender show of emotion, "it's okay if you want to cry you know?" Peter smiled lightly and pushed her head onto his shoulder. Clara cleared her throat slightly and looked down at her hands. Playing with them lightly she felt her eyes tear up.

"I've cried enough. My parents know, my grandparents know. It can't bring them back." She twisted her fingers together as Peter's hand overlapped her own. A serge of electricity ran threw her body, she shivered to. Peter's hand retracted as he looked at his hand, confusion spreading across his face.

"We're here." Mrs. Macready said as the carriage slowly came to a stop. Lucy turned around and stared at the Mansion.

"Oh, wow. It's so big!" She almost screamed with happiness, but Susan slowly stopped her by patting her arm. Mrs. Macready smiled lightly.

"It's the professor's pride and joy to this very day, now," she hoped off the front and lead the horse into a small shed looking building. There is tied up the carriage and lead the horse into a smaller, enclosed section of the shed. Clara thought it was probably the room made especially for the horse to stay. Once Mrs. Macready came back, she slipped off her gloves and slapped them together.

Clara watched, almost amazed as the dirt that flew off the gloves.

"Please gather your stuff children," she said in an almost strict tone, "and follow me." She waited at the entrance of the shed as Susan, Edmund, Clara, Lucy, and, lastly, Peter stepped off the carriage with their bags.

"Come along, we want to get you inside before any wind or rain starts up." She hurried the children along. Clara grabbed Lucy's hand as they hurried, she didn't want the littlest to fall behind.

* * *

(1)- 100-110 pounds is the average for a 5'0 12-year old. (: I looked it up.


	5. Plays, old maids, and Broadway

**Your Call  
**_By Masque de Naïf Beaute  
_**Chapter five**: Plays, old maids, and Broadway

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I would like the thank everyone for all the alerts and favorites going on! (: Hopefully you (19 alerters) review soon because it'd make me update more and sooner! AH! This was 6 pages on Microsoft; size 10 in Times New Roman. My brain is dead… X.x

* * *

"The professor is unaccustomed to having children in his house, and as such, there are a few rules we need to follow. There will be no shouting' or running', no improper use of the dumbwaiter," Susan went to go touch one of the old artifacts that stood on a pedestal as Mrs. Macready took a sharp glances towards her, "NO touching of the historical artifacts and above all, there shall be no disturbing' of the Professor." Susan's hand retracted and her face flushed as Mrs. Macready cruelly looked at all the children. She turned on her heel.

"Allow me to show you to your rooms." Mrs. Macready started up the steps as the children followed, this time Clara was in the back looking off dazedly out the window.

Mrs. Macready went up two flights of stairs and straight down a hallway until she came to her first stop.

"The girls will sleep in this room," she opened the door showing two beds, a small bookcase, and a large window, "and then this room." The next door she pushed open only had one bed, two bookcases, two large panel windows, and a small wardrobe. Clara smiled lightly, "Can I have this room?" She turned to Susan and Lucy.

Susan shrugged her shoulders loosely and turned on her heel, just as Mrs. Macready did a moment ago, "I don't mind. In fact, I'd like to sleep with my sister for some months. We'll be able to "reconnect"." Clara looked at Susan as she strode back to her room and sat on the bed. Now Clara's glance was given towards Lucy, who sighed out a large breath.

"Can I come visit you?" She acted as if Clara was moving down to the East wing of the house and was never going to be seen again. Clara kneeled down the Lucy's height, "of course Lu. It's not problem for me." She ruffled her hair lightly as Lucy smiled and turned limply to go back to her assigned room. Clara turned around to come face to face with Edmund.

"Jeez Ed!" she stated exasperatedly, her eyes knitted down, "you done putting away your clothes already?" Ed looked at her with an annoyed look.

"No mum." As he stalked off, Clara tilted her head nervously as her eyes followed his frame until he went out of view.

Clara sighed and folded her arms across her chest.

"That boy." Clara smiled sadly as a hand was placed upon her shoulder. She jumped slightly as she turned her head to look at who the hand belonged to.

"Oh, Peter, you scared me." _Peter_, her thoughts echoed throughout her head. His smiling face tilted slightly.

"Is everything okay?" Clara sighed as she stepped into her room, "please come in, sit." Peter nodded his head as his arm fell limply to his side.

"Okay, so out with it then." Clara unzipped her bag and started pulling out her clothes to hang in the wardrobe and fold into her personal trunk.

"It's just that…" she started out, opening the doors to the wardrobe, "Edmund has been acting so differently… especially since the beginning of the war and…" Peter cut her off, "it worries you, doesn't it?" Clara turned around to grab another article of clothing to hang; a dress.

"Yes, I mean…" She turned again to hang the dress into the wardrobe, "he's like a little brother to me and I wish nothing more than happiness, but he acts like I've stricken him or something, is it something I have done?" She questioned as she sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing hopelessly.

Suddenly Peter gathered her into his arms, pulling her into his chest, petting her hair slightly; a _hug_.

"It's nothing you've done, trust me Clara. It's.. it's about our father," he stopped petting her hair and started to twirl the strands around his finger, "it's that he's so upset at the world because of this war, because of our father." Clara sighed.

"Of course, I should've known," She leaned against Peter for the second time that day, "it's just that sometimes it's harder to remember other people's pains…"

"when you have pains of your own?" Clara smiled up at Peter, "that's exactly it." Peter squeezed her shoulder closer to his and smiled.

"You know I'm still your best friend right?" Clara smiled and chuckled girlishly at him.

"Yes, Pete." His old nickname both Clara and his father used on him when ever he felt down.

"You know you can tell me anything right?" Clara smiled wider and nodded her head.

"Yes, Pete."

"You know that I'll always love you no matter what right?" Clara's heart thumped at the word 'love' as her smile somewhat softened and she looked up at Peter. Taking his hand in hers she squeezed it lightly, her smile widening again.

"Of course Peter! You're my best friend, and one you'll always be. No matter what," Her hand gave way as she stood up, "now you better go unpack so we can eat dinner and shower, what not, you know." Peter smiled widely at Clara and got up from her bed.

Once he was inside the doorframe, he span on his heel and bowed lightly. Pretending to take off his cap, his hand placed on his hip.

"Milady," he took her hand and kissed the tops of her knuckle, "till we meet again." Clara rolled her eyes at Peter's playful actions; he'd taken a scene from her favorite radio program (just the way she imagined it,) and turned it into something real.

"Till we meet again sir," she curtsied at him making her brown curls drop down from her shoulders. A giggle escaped from the far right, and looking up only did it reveal Lucy to be giggling, but not only that; clapping too.

"Wonderful performance Peter," she nodded towards her brother, "Clara." She smiled and nodded towards her friends as she scampered back inside.

"Maybe we should go on theatre and do some plays?" A chuckle escaped from Peter's mouth as Clara spoke those words, "maybe we should."

"I best be off, unpacking you know." Peter gave her a playful nudge and winked at her. Clara felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes, hoping the redness would give way.

"Okay Peter, have fun because you know… you never do without me." Now it was Peter's turn to roll his eyes at Clara's actions; she blew a kiss in his direction and shut the door, leaving only a crack to see threw.

* * *

It was nearly six o'clock when Clara was done un-packing and rummaging threw the room. She sat down and started reading 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. She loved the book though she had never heard of it. It was written by someone that called themselves Lewis Carroll; how odd.

Pictures often showed up in random places in the book carefully creating the imagery that she longed for inside a book. Sometimes when she read the author did nothing, but stuff details within details within details (I think you get the point,) and other times the author left so much to the imagination that the only thing in your imagination you got was a stick figure holding flowers.

"I think my favorite character so far is the Mad Hatter," Clara spoke out loud, but only to herself, "he seems like such an interesting character, with all his riddles." One riddle resided in the back of her mind: How is a raven like a writing desk? It played within her mind multiple times, yet she never could think of a quaint enough answer.

A knock erupted from the door, leaving Clara surprised and her image gone.

"Who is it?" There was no voice that spoke, and after a few moments Clara went to open the door. Mrs. Macready stood there, hands placed neatly in front of her. She bobbed her head slightly, her glasses running down the bridge of her nose.

"Yes ma'am?" Her quiet voice seemed little next to the tall, horse woman.

"Dinner is served in the dinning room, didn't your friends tell you that when they came down?" her voice was sharp, "never mind that, come along." She grabbed Clara by the wrist and pulled her down the long hallways, two flights of stairs, and down into the foyer.

"The dinning room is straight on and on your right," she smoothed out her skirting, "myself and the professor won't be joining you, but the bedtime is strictly at eight o'clock, no later." With that Mrs. Macready stalked up the stairs and to the left, probably to bathe and change into her night attire.

Clara nodded to herself and started walking, according to Mrs. Macready's instructions. She suddenly found herself in a room of large paintings that hung form the walls and a large, booming fire.

The long table that seated up to twelve people was filled with four bodies; of course Clara knew them. Peter, sitting at the front, Susan sat to his left, Lucy sat next to Susan, and then to Peter's right Edmund sat next to him.

"Lovely for you to finally join us Clara," Susan said curtly, "Mrs. Macready made us wait until you finished up in your room. Exactly what _were _you doing?" Clara curtsied towards them, for some reason she felt as if she was in the presence of royalty.

As she walked over to Edmund's side, she felt a head pain coming on. She pressed her thumb against her temple and arrived at her desired location, only to flop down onto the seat.

"I was reading a wonderful book actually." Susan's face brightened up considerably.

"Oh?" she inquired, "what was the title?"

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," Clara took a sip of her water, "it's quite interesting." Edmund looked at Clara, perhaps thinking she was growing a second head.

"I've never heard of that book," Susan stated as she started to eat her crisp salad, "tell me about it." The room was filled with groans. When Edmund cut in, it was like the awkward atmosphere disappeared.

"How about what we're going to do for the next _year_?" Clara looked at Edmund as Lucy looked down at her lap, loosing her appetite. Suddenly pushing her plate back, she got up from her spot.

"Excuse me, I'm not hungry anymore." With that she quickly walked from the table and towards the large doors, pushing them open; she walked out.

The echoing sounds of her shoes rang out throughout the house.

Clara and Susan shortly stood up.

"I'll go after her." Susan said, stopping Clara short. Clara only nodded, she wasn't Lucy's sister. Susan would be better at comforting her. When Susan felt the next to speak was Peter.

"Nice going Ed," Peter clenched the ends of the chair.

"It's not my fault she's overly emotional!" He yelled as he shoved the chair away from the table and ran out the open doors. Peter sighed and left his elbow lingering on the table. Clara looked at him; he was trying his best to keep them together.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly, like he had done so many times to comfort her.

"You're doing the best you can Pete," she started, blowing a few stray strands away from her face, "you can only try your best." Peter sighed and tilted his head back only to look up into Clara's sparkling brown eyes. Peter's face heated up. _Probably from the room, it's hot in here_, he said to himself.

"But what happens when your best isn't enough?" he questioned as he teetered on his thoughts.

"I'll clean up, you guys go tuck in Lucy. I'll be up soon." Peter noted to himself she sounded more and more like a mother everyday. Clara smiled lightly as Peter walked, softly, out of the room. Her smile faded when the doors closed, then she started to pick up the plates.

* * *

On the way to the kitchen, which was joined by a swinging door from the dinning room. Clara tripped on the rolled carpet and the next thing she knew she landed on the plates and glasses. She heard a loud '_CRASH_' from beneath her and tried to cover the sound with the door swinging open and closing shortly after.

No one came running down, so that was a good sign. Clara sighed and cringed when she tried to get up. Looking down at her dress and stockings, she discovered something surprising. Glass shards embedded themselves in her skin. She bit her finger to keep herself from crying as she stood up and went over to the garbage bin.

Sitting on the counter, she started plucking the pieces of glass out of her body. Most of the shard wounds bleed, but not as much as Clara thought they would. She prayed to god the rest of the pieces didn't bleed as much either.

Her prayers weren't answered because when she plucked out the finally glass shard (which was quite big in size,) blood oozed out of the wound. Placing her handkerchief over the wound she tied it around limply and got the broom to sweep up the remaining shards.

When she was finished she swept the shards into the garbage bin and sighed.

"Now I need to take a bath so the wounds don't get infected." She looked at the carpet, and the rug she tripped on, to see if any blood resided on the nicely woven material. She spotted none, so she dusted off her knees and looked over at the clock: seven nineteen. Hopefully everyone had taken a bath.

* * *

When she made it upstairs, she silently started a warm bath. She stripped of her clothes, after making sure the lock was securely in it's place. She stopped the water and dripped on foot in to make sure it wasn't to cool or too warm.

It was perfect.

She slowly slipped in her whole, the wounds hissing with pain. She cringed as the largest wound entered the water. Blood slowly ran out of the wound into the water, but it wasn't as much as before. That she was thankful for.

So without another moments notice, she started washing her body with the given soaps and oils that sat on the rim of the bath tub.

* * *

It was approximately ten minutes till eight as Clara unplugged the tub and dried up. She opened the medicine cabinet and searched for antibiotics, which luckily Mrs. Macready stacked up in the back, and bandages, which she found besides the laundry hamper.

Clutching the bandages and antibiotics in her left hand, she used her right hand to clutch her towel around her form. Opening the door slowly, she peeked into the hallway to make sure no one was standing out there waiting to scare her as Edmund commonly did in the house in Finchley.

She missed Finchley. She shook her head and walked out into the hallway, moving to turn off the lights, she slipped on the water dripping down from her hair. She landed on her butt as she flickered the light off.

"God damned," she cursed loudly, "why am I so clumsy?" she questioned herself harshly. Suddenly one of the doors opened and a head peeked out.

"Clara?" It was Edmund."Oh god Edmund," She tried to stand, but slipped again, "you have to help me up. I can't see and I keep slipping over my own two feet." She could almost feel Edmund roll his eyes as he wondered along the walls, and over to her.

"You're _wet_." He said. It wasn't a question, more of a statement.

"I just bathed genius." She said, playfully rubbing her arm against him, "Don't do that, I have my pajamas on you nit." Clara frowned as Edmund guided her over to her respectful door.

"Here," Clara smiled lightly, opening the door, she turned on her light. When she turned around she noticed Edmund was avoiding her eyes.

"Thank you Edmund." She pecked his cheek and shut the door quietly. He was such a good boy, helping girls out in need. Chivalry was not dead, yet.

* * *

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time Clara was dressed and had addressed her wounds. No one would ever notice. Then she heard the pattering of quiet feet and the door next to hers opening and closing. Light flickered in the hallway. Clara turned off the light quickly and tossed the blankets over her shoulders. Her door suddenly creaked open as a candle light shown in.

"Such good little children, already in bed." Mrs. Macready's voice said out loud. The door opened more as Mrs. Macready sat at the edge of Clara's bed. She caressed Clara's hair and her jaw, "you look just like my granddaughter, Emily." Mrs. Macready sadly smiled and got up. She walked out of the room and shut the door tightly.

"Sleep well _Clara_." Mrs. Macready said, her voice wavering between loneliness and sadness.

* * *

"Gas-tro-vas-cu-lar," Susan said loudly as she read out of the biggest dictionary she could find. This was her idea of _fun. _Clara sat at the window looking at the rain pattering against the glass, "come on Peter! Gas-tro-vas-cu-lar." Clara looked over Susan's shoulder and mouthed the word 'Latin' over to Peter. Peter gave Clara a questionable glance.

"Is it Latin?" Susan sighed and gave a curt answer: "Yes." Clara glanced over at Edmund as he poked her. He smirked widely, only Clara knew that meant a nasty comeback.

"Is it Latin for 'worse game ever invented'?" Susan slammed the book closed and sent a dirty glare at Edmund. Lucy looked over at Peter.

"We could play hide and seek?" Lucy put out.

"Or we could play old maid?" Edmund set in.

"Or we could have a Broadway show." Clara added in smirking, everyone's eyes widened and snapped over to her, "what?"

Peter smirked and stretched out on the chair: "But we were having so much fun!" He glanced over at Susan who knew it was sarcasm he sprinkled on his tone.

"Oh please, please, please, please Peter!" Lucy exclaimed, holding out her hands as if she were going to pray. Closing her eyes, Lucy put on the cutest face she could muster. Clara saw Peter contemplating over this. Finally he gave in,

"One…two…three…four…" that's when everyone ran out of the room and went to find their own hiding spot.


	6. Freak

Your Call

Chapter six: Freak

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE**__: I want to thank my nine reviewers. And I have a reply to "You suck at naming OCs": I took your 'criticism_' into mind writing this chapter, but no one is perfect! Ahem, who's Anne Frank? :(

AHEM, thanks for the 588 hits and I this story was added to another C2, so thank you for that as well! I'm honored! Really (: You thirteen alerters need to review! Haha seriously, it'd make me update a lot faster than I normally do. That's why most of my stories are stopped, because don't review for it.

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Clara slightly yelped as Edmund pushed her out of the way as he ran down the long, narrowing hallways. She narrowed her eyes at the fading figure of the teenage boy and looked around her; where should she hide?

Running along the hallways she noticed Lucy go into a spare room, was there a good hiding spot in there? She shook her head and moved her way down the corridor; surely there was some place to hide?

Sure enough, she came a long a cupboard that she could_ possibly_ fit into. Opening the wooden doors, she noticed the only thing inside were two tea cups that were situated right next to each other. She squeezed into the cupboard as she heard Peter's voice faintly.

"Eighty-three, eighty-four, eight-five…" his voice trailed off as Clara shut the cupboard doors in front of her and curled her legs up to her torso; she left cramped. The dust traveled to and fro from the old wood and cups, tickling her nose. Clamping her hand over her nose, she sneezed and suddenly she heard Lucy.

"I'm back! I'm back, it's alright!" Clara shoved the door open with her shoe and looked out the open door, trying to wiggle her way out. She said Edmund saying something to Lucy, though she was too far away to hear them.

"You know, I'm not sure you two have quite gotten the idea of this game!" She heard Peter's voice answer to theirs. Clara knew something was up and wiggled her way out of the cupboard, her dress filthy with dust and old wood chips in her skirting. She dusted off herself and walked, slowly, down the corridor.

"Does this mean I win?" Susan asked, her hands crossed over her chest looking amused with herself.

"I do believe I've won Susan." Clara said, smirking to herself. Peter glanced between the two girls, giving a half nervous look towards Clara.

"I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore." Peter suggested, looking down at his littlest sister. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest.

* * *

The next thing Clara knew was they were looking inside a large, wooden wardrobe. Lucy explained time and time again that she absolutely, positively knew there was _another world_ hidden inside that wardrobe. Clara looked at Lucy with a disbelieving glance; sure Clara was childish, but she didn't think Lucy would go _this_ far with a prank. Her eyes were even watering from people giving her disapproving looks. Clara decided, against her better judgment, that she believed Lucy's story.

"One game at a time Lu, we don't all have your imagination." Edmund grumbled something after Peter spoke; something about 'when you were little you were fun like that too'.

"But I wasn't imagining!" Lucy cried out, fresh tears in her eyes while her cheeks turned a bright, cherry red color.

"That's enough…" Susan cut in with a sharp tone, slicing the tense atmosphere in half.

Edmund pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and came over to the rest of the group, placing a hand on Lucy's shoulder.

"Well I believe you Lu," Lucy looked up at her older brother, "really?" Edmund smirked lightly and Clara knew he was going to say something obviously stupid and Peter would yell at him, "Yah, didn't I tell you about the football field I found in the bathroom closet?"

Clara remembered that, and no one believed him either at that point in time; just like Lucy. Later, they found out he had _build_ a mini football field in the bathroom closet. The only thing though was the footballs were Lucy's doll's heads.

Lucy cried over it for weeks.

"Why don't you just stop it!" Peter fumed at Edmund, his ears were growing red, "you always have to make everything worse. Grow up!" He yelled the last part, and Edmund's face contorted into several various facial expression, but he ended up with the 'piss off' look.

"Shut up!" he screamed, throwing his fists to his sides, "you think you're dad, but you're not!" He stormed out of the room, his loud shoe steps going down the corridor. Clara wasn't sure what was going on at this moment, but she didn't like it.

"Well, that was handled nicely Pete," Susan said with a long sigh, as she walked out of the room, looking for Edmund; most likely to comfort him.

"But it really was there…" Lucy started, looking down at her hands. Clara took this time and kneeled down by Lucy's side to give her a big hug; forgetting Peter was there watching the two.

"I believe you Lucy," Lucy gave her a disbelieving look, "really; tell me about it! Was it beautiful?" Lucy's face brightened up, but Peter interrupted the two.

"Can you stop encouraging her for once Clara?" Peter asked harshly, "we're not children any more; grow up!" Clara turned her head as her jaw tightened. There was a little monster at the bottom of her heart, turning screws, smirking to itself.

"I remember when you were little and you dreamt of silly things Peter!" She cried out, standing up. Her face was tinted red, "and no one believed you except for me!" Peter's face flushed a dark pink as he turned his head away from her eyes.

"I was only doing that so you felt like you belonged!" Peter answered insensitively, "because everyone knew you were the poor, polish girl without a friend in the world," he paused, his face getting redder, "because everyone knew you were a freak!" Clara's eyes welded up with tears and as one escaped her eye she bit the inside of her cheek.

"At least I know how to control my anger," she brushed passed him and wandered back to her room. Lucy looked up at her big brother.

"Peter, why'd you say those things to Clara?" her naïve look made Peter give way, his anger vanished and he looked at his hands, "you know they hurt her a lot." She pouted slightly as Peter gathered her into his arms.

"Because you're big brother is a dunce." Lucy smiled lightly and hugged him tightly around his neck.

* * *

Clara rolled up on her bed, into a tiny ball. She felt like her heart had been ripped out when those words left Peter's mouth. Was she really a freak, like he said? She didn't want to think about it, but it was impossible to avoid the topic inside her head. Her tangled, curled hair rolled up underneath her. She felt sick, dirty; like a freak.

She grabbed onto her pillow, crying softly into it. She slowly cried herself to sleep, the tears didn't dry, but moistened themselves on her skin.

"Clara?" Peter knocked lightly on the door, but no answer. Perhaps she was still mad at him? Peter opened the door, the creaking of the door made itself known, but yet, no answer.

"Clara?" he paused and looked down at her sleeping form. His eyes softened as he took two long strides over to her bedside to sit on the edging. He carefully brushed her bangs back from her face and his eyes softened even more; tears. She'd been crying for hours hadn't she? He felt horrible.

"I'm sorry Clara," he said softly, caressing her cheek lightly still being the moist tears on her cheeks, "I don't know why I said the things I said." Peter lowered his face towards her, taking her in features.

Her skin was pale and soft, her lips were plump and pink, her eye-lashes cascaded over her eyes, and her hair glittered slightly.

She's beautiful, he thought to himself. Then, he started shaking his head; why was he thinking that kind of things about his best friend?

He lowered his lips down to her, placing a tender kiss upon her cheek. The door creaked behind him as he whipped his head up towards the door. Edmund stood at the door, leaning against it; his eyes slightly widened.

"You-you…" Peter stood up and looked at his brother, "I kissed her on the cheek," Edmund looked at his brother weirdly, "while she was asleep?"

"Yes," he began to reply, "is there a problem with that?"

"You to pansy to kiss her while she's awake?" Edmund asked, a smirk creasing his face. Peter growled lowly and walked passed Edmund, bumping him into the doorframe, "now I have blackmail on you!" Edmund yelled after him, and he began laughing quietly to himself.


End file.
